Lililtu Siavash was sitting alone at the other gods table, at ten'o'clock in the morning, hair a bird's nest and no makeup on, slouched over her porridge. She hated porridge, the texture was horrible and it tasted like nothing. So she had covered her porridge with chocolate powder, honey, sprinkles and tomato sauce, occasionally lifting her spoon to her mouth and eating, taking breaks of staring at nothing to drink her black coffee, which also tasted horrible. She didn't care as she poured the dregs of her caffeine into her porridge, then taking a bite, eyes half-closed. She should not have spent the whole night wandering.